


Downtown Ruby

by deerop



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drag Queen Kylo, Hux has a late gay crisis, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 09:04:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7751551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deerop/pseuds/deerop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bent over a fancy bathroom sink, tongue in his ass, Hux idly wonders how a flat tire led to this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Downtown Ruby

**Author's Note:**

> I got so much secondhand embarrassment for Hux while writing this, and I don't even care. ;_; Kylo is a drag queen, and I'm not *super* familiar with how it all works, so if I dun fucked anything up, feel free to correct me and I'll fix it!

Car shaking violently, Hux curses loudly as he pulls onto the smooth parking lot of a crowded, high-end looking bar, the front neon sign lighting up his dashboard. The sky is darkening, it's downtown Chicago, and he can feel a migraine budding. Whipping out his cell, he bites back a scream when he sees the dim screen and little 2% in the corner. Fumbling, he pulls up his contacts and presses a number, holding the nearly dead phone to his ear.

 _"What's up, boss?"_ Poe answers, voice slurred as if he's tired or drunk. Hux exhales through his teeth. He expected this, shouldn't have called his most laidback employee. Should have called Mitaka, the little ass-kisser.

"I got a flat tire. In front of a damn bar," he sighs. He squeezes his phone, the pain of it digging into his hand helping him keep in a stream of expletives. "My phone is about to die," he says, tipping it back to glance at the 1%. 

Chewing noises, tinny through the speaker, have the migraine coming on faster. _"In the Pagani? Damn. Which bar, man? I can -,"_ Poe starts, only for Hux's phone to let out the carrier jingle before flashing and going black.

Hux stares at the blank screen, blinking slowly as he assesses the situation. Someone shouts, and he's looking up as a tall woman manhandles a group of men, throwing them out the front doors of the bar. One of them grabs the front of his pants in an obscene gesture and stumbles drunkenly, Hux sneering to himself as he watches the fools waltz away, two of them turning to stare at his car before continuing.

"Just saying, you obviously aren't as straight as you think," the woman chortles in an accent not unlike Hux's own, popping a tube of lipstick from her purse and casually reapplying a bright red coat before pulling out a cigarette. "Try causing trouble at a drag show when you can keep those erections down."

Hux feels the color drain from his face. Great. Not only did he pop a tire in front of a bar, but one of _those_ bars. The place looks fancy, and from what Hux can see through the bottoms of the clear windows, clean and thus reputable. He's not much in the mood to roam Chicago at night to find a better option, so he unbuckles himself and slinks out of the car, smoothing his palms over his fitted charcoal suit and straightening his posture.

The tall woman is still smoking, eyeing him as he makes his way over. She whistles when he comes closer, looking him over critically.

"It's not often the richest man in the Windy City comes to a lil' ole' show bar, Mr. Hux," she smiles. She's dressed in a body contouring dress, sleek black material reflecting moonlight. "Nice car, shame about the tire."

Defensively, Hux brings himself up to his full height. The woman doesn't seem impressed, her short blonde hair swaying in the slight breeze. "I'm just here to use a phone. Need to call a tow truck or one of my incompetent underlings," he spits, holding up his dead cell for affect.

Stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray atop the trashcan next to the door, the blonde woman nods. "My phone is in the back. You can borrow it, come inside for a sec," she says. With that, she turns, leading him into the dimly lit bar, bass heavy music booming. The place is lit up inside with neon blue and purple lights, a crowd gathering around a very expensive looking glass catwalk that spirals around the serving area. Some stay seated at the tables, sipping drinks and chatting.

A trio of men with sharp cheekbones sitting at the table nearest the end of the catwalk have Hux staring, their brightly colored hair and eye makeup along with intense contour jobs leaving his jaw hanging slightly.

"Hope that doesn't offend you, sir," the blonde woman smirks, gaze tracing Hux's.

Hux whips his head over to look at her, fairly sure she can see the red staining his cheeks. "Not at all," he chuckles smoothly, feeling slightly more nervous than before. He watches as a middle-aged looking man makes his way out onto the catwalk stage from a back room, the music stopping and crowd whooping as he takes the mic.

He cracks a joke that Hux doesn't understand, a woman seated near the front choking on her drink. "I know all you deviants have been looking forward to this one," he drawls, the patrons now buzzing excitedly. Hux looks around, trying to pick up on _anything_ he's talking about.

A firm hand is suddenly squeezing around his bicep, dragging him to a table near the corner of the bar. "Armitage, Mr. Hux, I can't miss this. It'll only take a few minutes," the tall woman says, excitement in her voice. Before Hux can be offended at the use of his first time, she pulls out another cigarette and lighter, only taking a single drag before -

"Phasma, put that shit out," the man on stage booms into the mic, causing _Phasma_ to break into insane laughter, her shoulders shaking. Every single face in the crowd turns to look at them, and Hux can feel his erratic heartbeat, throat tight as he sees recognition spark on the faces of many.

Phasma sneers playfully, once again stubbing her cigarette with a mournful look on her face. "Sorry," she titters, not sounding sorry at all. 

The crowd turns back to the man, a few gazes lingering on the billionaire in their midst, whispering to their neighbors curiously. Hux wants nothing more than to dart out of the bar and find somewhere, anywhere, else to make his call. He can't, though, the thought of sprinting out of the building with his tail between his legs even more embarrassing than possibly seeing his face plastered on the outdated _Chicago Tribune_ in the morning. He wonders what his father would think, if it came to that.

The MC clears his throat for show. "As I was saying, I would like you all to warmly welcome the lustrous, the amazing, the quite beautiful...," he trails off, the crowd shushed as they hang onto his every word. A pulsing rhythm begins. "Kylo Ren!" He shouts, the crowd reaction instantaneous. Cheers and claps go up around the room, the man stepping off the catwalk, walking down the set of stairs at the front.

The lights dim even further, the flourescent glow of blue and purple remaining as tendrils of green smoke slowly stream from the floor at the start of the catwalk, a tall figure appearing behind the film of vapor, obscured. The music changes tune, some of the crowd gathered around the glass pounding their fists to the beat.

The first things to hit Hux are long legs made even longer by painful looking heels. The next are the heels themselves, thigh high and black, covered with intertwining laces. Further up, he takes in a sheer black dress that hangs off of a massive body, broad shoulders draped with a darker shawl, the dress itself appearing strapless. The thin sliver of skin visible between the dress and heels reveals tightly stretched fishnet leggings, bulging with the thigh muscles underneath. He can barely keep in a choked noise when he glances at the man's face. Adorned with less makeup than the others, dark red, full lips are offset by pale skin and brown-gold glittering eye makeup that arches up with his faux brows. A large nose and moles not covered by concealer add to the odd charm of it. His hair is dark and rich, topped by a gray sunhat and so real looking that Hux has to mentally applaud the wigmaker. It's an intense mix of masculine and feminine, and he finds himself enraptured by it.

Watching as Kylo Ren leans down elegantly to hand a rose that Hux didn't even realize he was holding off to a woman in the front row, Hux feels himself gaping, not caring to close his mouth. He can almost sense Phasma smirking at him, though he doesn't turn to check, eyes glued to the fascinating man on the catwalk.

Suddenly, Kylo Ren is expertly balancing himself on those dangerous heels as he strides down the steps at the front of the catwalk, dress swaying silkily as he moves his hips. It's not until he looks up from those sinful legs again that Hux notices Kylo Ren staring _straight at him_ , the dips of his hips becoming more pronounced as he walks right towards him. Hux desperately prays that he melts into the chair, backing up as he tries to make himself appear smaller. Phasma is giggling now, and the music is turning static-y in his ears.

It feels like everyone is watching - _because they are,_ Hux's mind supplies helpfully - when Kylo Ren languidly stretches a thick leg over his hips, straddling him. He doesn't put his full weight on him, just a light pressure that Hux can feel against his cock, which traitorously twitches in its confines.

 _No one knows you're cold blooded_ , the music booms, and Kylo Ren is leaning in, humming the lyrics in a deep voice, unwrapping the shawl from his neck and putting it around Hux's, pulling him forward to lightly take Hux's bottom lip between his teeth, pulling back slowly until it pops back into place. _Pyscho_ , he whispers as the song does, winking, before standing up and stretching out his long limbs in the abysmal lighting, his muscles rippling pleasantly. Before Hux can move, frozen in shock, Kylo is making his way back to the catwalk, very unsubtly waving his ass.

It's over then, Kylo Ren making his way back behind the cloud of smoke and into the back room after blowing a kiss into the crowd, who begin cheering wildly as soon as he's gone. Hux finally finds himself able to relax, and he glances over at Phasma, who is between clapping and wiping at her eyes.

"That was the mating dance of a man looking to get fucked," Phasma yells over the music. "Watch out, tiger."

Hux isn't listening. "Go grab your phone and meet me back here. I need to use the bathroom," he barks, sending her a glare before she can make a joke about _needing to use the bathroom_.

The bathroom itself is, unfortunately, near the end of the catwalk. Hux is greeted with whistles from Kylo Ren's fellow drag queens, flush heating up his face as he darts into the first room, thankful when he sees urinals. It's quite a fancy one, he realizes, marble countertops and porcelain stalls shining cleanly. He doesn't look up from his business when the door whooshes open and shut as he's pissing, and he's ready to turn, wash his hands, and leave, but he feels someone stepping up behind him. He freezes.

"We've got this pool going - who can fuck the most straight guys in a month. Care to add to my record?" A nauseatingly familiar rich, deep voice whispers in his ear, warm breath making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Turning, Hux immediately shoves at the solid body crowding him in, frustration coursing through him when it doesn't even budge. Looking up, his hearts leaps to his throat and he swears Kylo Ren must see his eyes bulging out of his head. The man is _already_ out of his makeup and costume, showing off his natural eyebrows and lips, which are still as deliciously full, and Hux finds a surge of arousal jolting through him, stronger than when he saw Kylo in drag, and suddenly he can't blame the feelings of lust on the fact that Kylo had looked slightly, not really, female, in that dress and makeup. The shoulder-length black hair, it turns out, is completely real.

Then he's attacking those lips with his own, irrationally, the fascinating man now dressed in a casual wifebeater and jeans allowing Hux to crowd them backwards, towards the fancy marble countertops. Hux lets out an embarrassing whine that he'll deny later when Kylo pulls back, tongue tracing his lips.

"You ever played for the same team?" Kylo asks, grabbing one of Hux's hands and leading it to his ass, encouraging him to squeeze.

"No," Hux spits, scandalized, having the nerve to sneer as if he's _above_ what Kylo is implying, even as he's leaning against him and groping his ass.

Warm hands are on his waist now, flipping their positions and turning Hux in the blink of an eye. "I don't quite like gay-virgins sticking their dicks up my ass, Mr. Hux," Kylo murmurs, his lips trailing over Hux's neck sweetly. "I've been told I'm pretty good with my cock, by both men and women," he continues, reaching around Hux to fumble with his buckle, sliding it off and yanking his expensive trousers down carelessly, snorting at his Armani underwear before pulling those down, too.

He's blushing furiously, he knows it, and when Kylo's hands swats his ass playfully, he feels it extending down his neck. "Cute little ass," Kylo murmurs, running a finger between the crack, causing Hux to tighten up. "Gonna be real tight on my dick," he chuckles.

He pushes softly on Hux's shoulder blades, coaxing him to lay his suited chest flat on the smooth marble before dropping down behind him. Hux expects a finger to work its way into his ass, nervous and excited at the prospect, but he gets a puff of warm breath against one of his cheeks, Kylo's huge hands coming up to pry them open instead. He lets out an honest to God shout when Kylo's relaxed, wide tongue works its way over his hole, silently thanking himself for being a thorough washer.

Bent over a fancy bathroom sink, tongue in his ass, Hux idly wonders how a flat tire led to this.

He gives himself a delirious moment to imagine Phasma on the other side of the door, giggling furiously with those drag queens as they listen to Hux being eaten out within an inch of his life, but then that _tongue_ is hardening to a point, slowly coaxing its way into his hole, and he lets out a wet sob, nerves on fire. Kylo pulls back, gently licking over him again in apology. He pulls off now, Hux peering over his shoulder to watch Kylo lick his lips as if chasing the taste of him, moaning at the display and letting his cheek fall back to the cool counter.

With another slap to his ass, Kylo begins pulling Hux's shoes off, patience depleted as he continues to the trousers and boxers bunched around his knees, gently lifting Hux's feet one at a time to pull both legs out. He stands up then, listening to Hux pant, still winded, and unbottons Hux's suit jacket from behind, slipping it off before moving to his crisp white dress shirt, pulling that off, too. Once he's completely naked, Kylo runs a warm hand over his sides, goosebumps rousing in his wake.

"So small," Kylo sing-songs. "Bet you made a fine twink back in the day."

"Back in the day?" Hux huffs, can't stop himself from smiling. Kylo laughs.

"Still do," Kylo amends happily, uncapping a bottle he'd retrieved from his pocket, pouring the silky, clear lube over his thick fingers, a content look on his face. "Need you to relax now, baby."

Hux watches through the mirror as Kylo looks down and presses the first finger inside, immediately clenching around the slow press before relaxing like Kylo said. It's not unpleasant, a slight burn creeping into the corners of the sensation, but overall, he just feels full. It doesn't feel like the few times he's tried this on himself, entering too quickly and yelping before yanking his fingers out, leaving himself aching. No, this feels different, and when Kylo's fingers curl just right, Hux keens embarrassingly, pressing back against his hand. Kylo takes the opportunity to add his middle finger, and tears are a near thing on Hux's part.

Wriggling his fingers against that spot once more before pulling them out slowly, Kylo finally works off his shirt and jeans, yanking his tight boxers down to his knees and using the excess lube on his fingers to wrap around himself, coating his erection. Hux just stares through the mirror, mouth agape. _Big_. He's suddenly lifted and flipped so that his back is resting on the marble, legs splayed obscenely, shivering where his hot skin hits the cool surface.

Kylo looks down at him, still stroking. "Wanna see that pretty face when I pop your cherry," he says, serious.

Lips pursed, Hux rolls his eyes. "Don't speak to me as if I'm some eighteen year old virgin girl, Ren," he hisses, Kylo quirking his brow at the use of his second name.

Kylo's lips quiver, another laugh threatening to spill. "No, you're a thirty-four year old who's never had a cock up his ass," he smiles, running a hand over Hux's flat stomach, moving up to lightly trace his ribs and peaked pale nipples.

The first soft press of Kylo's cock against his now pliant hole has him clenching in fear again, Kylo sighing above him, running his fingers lightly over Hux's thighs in comfort, pulling his calves up to rest on his muscled shoulders. Trying again, Kylo presses forward gently, the head of his length finally working its way in, Hux whining lightly at the stretch despite the preperation. It's a slow process, Kylo working his way in like Hux is a piece of particularly fine china, until his balls come to rest against his cheeks, Hux nearly choking at the idea of completely taking something so large.

"So big," Hux whimpers pathetically, desperately clenching around Kylo, drawing a groan from that wide chest. "So big," he repeats, muffled by his hand this time.

Slowly beginning to build a pace, Kylo sighs and studies the blissed out face below him, Hux's mouth hanging open and eyes squeezed shut, hair disheveled and creating a crown around his head on the marble. "You're even dirty talking like a virgin," he scolds fondly, his hands settling on the front of Hux's thighs, pulling him back softly with every thrust in.

Listening to his own moans and whines fill the echoing bathroom, Hux knows that he'll look back on them with great embarrassment, but for now, all he's focused on is the amazing drag of Kylo's cock in him, a new, strangled noise breaking from his lips when it rubs against that sweet spot from before, the one that Kylo hit with his fingers.

Humming, Kylo picks up the tempo of his hips, daring to pull Hux's ass back against him, hard, on a particularly aggressive thrust in, causing the man to let out a near scream before his hand flies to his mouth, eyes wide in shock as they dart from Kylo's face to the bathroom door.

"Knew you'd be so tight on my cock, sweetpea," Kylo groans, biting his lip. He uses his still-slick hand to lightly grab at Hux's length, stroking it slowly and completely out of of rhythm with his now frantic thrusts. "You have the prettiest dick, too."

Wanting to feel affronted at Kylo calling his cock _pretty_ , Hux tries to bite out something witty, but when he opens his mouth, the only thing that comes out is a high pitched moan, his abdominal muscles tensing as his hips cant forward and he comes, all over Kylo Ren's big hand, feeling himself clamping down on that fantastic dick. It's not long after that Kylo follows, the tightness around him becoming too much, and he lets out a shout as his cock pulses, shooting deep inside before gently pulling out, breathing heavily against Hux's neck.

Panting, Hux only gives himself a few seconds to recover before sitting up on the edge of the marble, feeling come leaking out of his ass and onto the expensive, once clean surface. Hand flying to his forehead, he looks at Kylo with wide eyes.

"If you're not clean, I swear -," he starts, teeth clenched, but Kylo holds up a hand.

"I am," is all he says, gathering Hux's previously press-perfect clothes into a ball and tossing them to him, a dumbfounded look on his face.

Cheeks reddening again, Hux wants to apologize for presuming, but he spits out, "Sorry for assuming that you're not, what with your career choice and all." All the right words, all in the wrong tone. He wants to hit himself.

Spinning as he's gathering his own clothes, Kylo gives him a sharp glare, and Hux feels the blood drain from his face now. Fuck.

"As much as I want to punch you for that comment, I'll chalk it up to gay-virgin ignorance. Do you seriously not recognize me?" Kylo murmurs, pulling on his boxers and jeans with a sigh.

For the upteenth time this night, Hux is at a loss, not knowing how he could possibly recognize a drag queen working at a high-end bar in Chicago. His mind flickers through the faces of old college and childhood friends, that unique face not coming up in any relevant memories. Shaking his head, he looks back up at Kylo, who's staring at him intently.

Shrugging, Kylo pulls on his shirt. "Huh. Guess daddy's money doesn't make everyone too smart," he laughs, pulling a matchbox and two cigarettes from his pocket, offering one to Hux. After he takes it and presses it between his lips, Kylo lights it, sighing in satisfaction.

"I want to be offended," Hux drawls, taking a drag. Looking over, he's overwhelmed by the warmness swimming around in those brown eyes as they watch him lazily.

They stay like that for a few minutes, relaxing as they listen to the music start up again on the other side of the thick wall, the sound of people laughing and talking muffled. Kylo comes to sit next to him, fully dressed while Hux's naked ass is still pressed against the counter, too terrified to pull on his expensive suit with come still leaking out of him.

Before he can stop it, he blurts, "Go out with me," into the comfortable lack of conversation, sure that a desperate gleam is detectable in his eyes when he looks up from where his head is resting on Kylo's thick shoulder.

Kylo smiles. "What would daddy think if he saw you out with a drag queen?" He admonishes jokingly, trailing a finger from his free hand along Hux's thigh.

"Fuck what he thinks," Hux grumbles, eyes fluttering with exhaustion. Before he can forget, he yawns, "So who are you, then? If I should recognize you?"

Stilling his finger, Kylo looks as if he's thinking hard about something. "Ben Solo," he finally says, using the ashtray at the end of the counter - there are ashtrays everywhere, Jesus - to put out his cigarette. "I'm sure you know who that is."

Immediately awake, Hux sits up straight and looks down at Kylo, who's relaxed in an awkward position now, his neck pressed against the back wall of the sinks as his long legs dangle to the floor. Studying his face quickly, Hux can see it - the full nose of his father, the warm brown eyes of his mother. He groans. Of course the man he'd decided to fuck's father is the founder of the most successful airline in the United States - the one who just recently announced that his son was to take over the family business.

"What -?" Hux starts, trailing off. "Why are you here?" He demands, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

Ren - _Ben_ \- looks at him with wild eyes now. "There's such a thing as doing the stuff you love to take off the stress of life," he chuckles, plucking the burning cigarette from Hux's hand and plopping it into his own mouth.

Ears ringing, Hux finally scrambles to pull on his own clothes, letting out a petulant whine at the wrinkled state of his fancy suit. When he stands, he balks at the feeling of more come finding its way out of his ass, and thinks grimly about the wet spot that will be present on the back of his pants.

Smoothing his hair as best as he can, he turns back to Kylo. "I - I need time to think," he says, wincing at the way his own voice sounds, so small and lost.

Blinking serenely, a small smile gracing his face as if he expected this, Kylo sends him a look of pure pity. "I understand," he sighs, running a hand down his stomach, looking relaxed.

Hux washes his hands finally, wrinkling his nose at the fact that he didn't before, and heads for the bathroom door. "When will you be back?" He asks, desperation palpable as he turns back to look at Kylo.

"Every second Friday," Kylo sing-songs.

Nodding awkwardly, Hux sends him a tight smile and finally leaves, making his way back to Phasma, who most certainly does not give him a knowing smirk. He most certainly does not flip her off before taking her phone, finally, finally making the call he came here for.

**Author's Note:**

> The song Kylo does his thing to is Cold Blooded by Zhu btw :)


End file.
